


familiar like my mirror, years ago

by ElasticElla



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Dragons, F/F, Non-Linear Narrative, Past Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand, Sand Snakes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 05:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20736773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: Ellaria is too old to be in need of rescuing, but she does enjoy the sight of a silver-haired princess at her gates, three dragons atop her shoulders.





	familiar like my mirror, years ago

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleRaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRaven/gifts).

> ellaria’s in her 30s, dany her 20s, what is canon amirite, i did weave in a bit of book canon that fit the fairy tale au better  
title from hozier's from eden

Ellaria is too old to be in need of rescuing, but she does enjoy the sight of a silver-haired princess at her gates, three dragons atop her shoulders. There is no army at her back, only a handful of riders, but only a fool would underestimate a dragon of any size, much less three. 

Ellaria is too old to take chances with her castle, yet still she invites the woman in. 

(For how can one pass up the chance to meet _dragons_?)

.

When Ellaria was a little girl, she learned the sands as all of her brothers and sisters do. For to hold a name is to own it, and Ellaria was a proud little girl, would not be shamed. When the lions of mountain soil come, she knows where to hide, brings a lost boy with her. 

Magic crackles and booms outside the cave, and the two speak in soft whispers. 

His name is Oberyn, and later she learns he is a prince. Later, they fall in love and have children, and Oberyn falls, hunting down the one that killed his sister. 

But this is not that story, and Ellaria cannot live in the past. 

.

“Rhaegal, Viserion, and Drogon- my children,” Daenerys proclaims, chin jutting out. 

Ellaria doesn’t blink, gestures to the opposite side of the table, “Tyene, Elia, Obella, Dorea, and Loreza- my children. The eldest half-sisters are away in the capital.”

While all the children are enchanted by the dragons, Elia is the first to ask, “Can we pet them? Please?” 

“If you don’t mind risking a finger,” the princess says lightly, and all the others lean back a bit in their seats, Obella slipping a knife below the table. El, the one who will send her to the dust early, leans _forwards_. 

“Don’t forget to watch the claws,” Ellaria says, resigned. It’s the same look in her eye El had when she first rode a horse, first picked up a lance- there’s no fighting it. 

(Elia feeds the golden one, and carefully pats his head, only gets a minor burn for it. Naturally, the other children join in after that.)

.

On her thirteenth nameday, Ellaria is given the castle. It has no name, and disappears into the sands when wished. 

“It suits you best,” her uncle Ulwyck had said, didn’t need to mention its history that no one wanted to live in. Between its desert-bound location and blood seeped into the stones so deep it’ll never be cleansed, some would consider its gifting an insult.

But Ellaria doesn’t care about the ghosts- she’s been gifted so much more than she dared hope. That day, her life turns down a new path, one with more autonomy. (That day, she writes to her love, apologizes but will not be joining him in Sunspear. She has her own castle to maintain, and he is always welcome.)

.

There is a shallow sand pit in the gardens, lined with cacti that bloom when the sun is hottest, pretty petals of yellow and orange and red. Ellaria spots Dany lounging on the chaise beside it, joining her. The princess looks elegant even relaxed, regal still without a crown. The three small dragons are all playing in the sand, rolling around and cleaning their scales. 

“Do you know how quickly they’ll grow?” Ellaria asks, taking the seat beside her. 

The princess’s frown takes her by surprise, “We’ve been cursed. They cannot grow larger until it is broken, they are nearing their eighth nameday. I’ve traveled all over Essos seeking magical aid, none was to be found.” 

She wets her lips, and knowing they’re stuck at the size of a cat makes the dragons seem more vulnerable, albeit a fire-breathing type of vulnerable. “I’m afraid the magic wielders of the east are far superior to anyone you’ll find in Westeros.” 

“I have given up on breaking the qartheen curse, we will endure and overcome it.” 

Ellaria’s rather fond of the princess, can’t help feeling a tinge of guilty gratefulness. There will be no need to kick her guests out, as they wouldn’t have enough dried meat for full grown dragons.

.

Ellaria has been having dreams of violet eyes and silver-gold hair streaming through her fingers like silk. Of laughter tinkling like bells, of kisses soft and plush and plentiful. The princess who was promised, and she returns each night, joy in her wake.

She never remembers the dreams, for Ellaria is no seer. But when the figure walks from dreams to her gates, Ellaria ignores caution and welcomes her. Such is the power of dreams. 

.

She loves her daughters, is so very proud of how fierce they have all become. They are quick in their blades or tongues or poison, for each take to sharpness differently. Renowned enough that there is no visiting the capital without the heavy reminder of the guards’ eyes, something Tyene finds most amusing. There is a kindred soul in the princess, for her children are just as bloodthirsty.

“What will you do,” Ellaria asks one night, “when your children grow?” 

“Take back what was stolen from my family. Make the world fair. And you?” 

Ellaria laughs lightly, “Oh, I have no disillusions about containing the girls. They will do as they wish.” 

“You should as well,” Dany says, meeting her eyes. 

So she does, kissing her as fire roars through her veins, makes her feel like a youth once more. 

.

-

.

It is a quick moon for Daenerys to fall in love. It feels as though she’s been hurtling towards the inevitability, from her dreams swathed in sand to meeting the most beautiful woman from them. While Dany is often called a dragon herself, Ellaria _is_ one. She is the epitome of ferocity and cunning, hidden away in the sands, jealously guarding her treasures from the world. (Dany has no doubt her daughters will make their mark on the world one day, but woe to anyone who dares harm them.)

Daenerys falls in love, and her children begin to grow.


End file.
